Pantomime
by silver-kin
Summary: It's all around him. Left, right, everything is changing. Wherever he looks, that unknown something is there. Don't blink, Xaldin tells himself. Don't blink or you'll miss it.


After two very sad attempts at writing, I finally managed to write something I can read again and think, 'this will work.' This was written for my sister, **Ran Shizuka**, who asked for it a few months ago. The article-bit was borrowed from a movie I saw on television once, but I've forgotten its title.

Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts is the property of Square Enix and Disney.

**Pantomime (working title)**

**Prologue**

It still feels like him.

That is the first thought that comes to mind when Xaldin steps into the room. He shuts the door behind him and looks around, noting the untouched bed, the table bare of its contents - all the things that signify an empty room.

The room is dead. With its still air and quietness echoing off the walls, it lacks all that had made it alive months before. Loss itself is surrounding him, whispering of things vanished, the people faded. Unwanted thoughts dance around in his mind, eager in their act of reminding him that all of it is gone and there is no way to recover them.

He closes his eyes and in the silence of the room, he searches the air for the sound he remembers.

**Chapter One**

His shoes made two soft thumps on the floor as he stepped out. The swirling abyss behind him disappeared and he walked to the center of the balcony, closing his eyes as he let the familiar vibes of the white castle welcome him back. He breathed in the cold air and listened to the quietness around him and was truly glad, for the first time in a long while, to be back.

It was then that he realized that something was amiss; the wind didn't taste familiar across his face, on his tongue. Even the invisible aura of his surroundings seemed to have altered, straying from what he remembered it to be.

Xaldin placed his two palms on the solid hedge and opened his eyes. In front of him, the black sky stretched on as far as the eye could see. A distance away, dark clouds had gathered and he could hear traces of rumbling in the air. He allowed the sound to roll over him, attempting to place what it was exactly that felt so different.

Suddenly, his ears caught another sound, as equally unfamiliar as the odd presence of the castle. Picking up the sound of footsteps, he tensed up. He turned around and fixed the only doorway around with a wary gaze, prepared to guard himself from his far corner. The voice accompanying the footsteps gradually increased in volume and Xaldin realized what it was - whoever it was, Xaldin figured the person must be comfortable with the castle, judging from the carefree footsteps and light-hearted humming.

Despite his preparations, when the intruder finally appeared, Xaldin found himself caught unaware, going still as opposed to his initial intent to immediately lash out. Likewise, the blonde figure came to an abrupt halt, the humming lodging itself in his throat as he blinked owlishly at him. They stared at each other from both ends of the opened room, an uncomfortable silence falling on them.

To any other watching, the sight must have been an awkward one.

After waiting for an explanation - one that never presented itself - Xaldin decided to break the silence. "Who are you?"

The threatening tone worked, much to his pleasure, and the newcomer snapped out of his stupor, mumbling something incoherent as he took a few hasty steps back. Finally, he stopped, seemingly recollecting his thoughts and attempted what looked suspiciously like a friendly smile. "My name is Demyx. I'm, uh, Number IX. Of the Organization," he clarified unnecessarily.

Instead of relaxing, Xaldin felt his distrust grow at the sight of such a smile. He took in the volunteered information and briefly wondered why he hadn't been told of the new recruit. "When did they find you?"

"About two days back," was the answer. The blonde hesitated before continuing uncertainly, "Xigbar found me."

Xaldin heard the distinct waver in the blonde's voice as he spoke the name and silently asked himself if it was there because of the difference in authority level or if it was caused by some cruel prank on the sharpshooter's part. He decided on the former, though the second option wasn't entirely out of the question - certainly, it wouldn't be the first time. Looking up, he saw that the newcomer was still standing in the same spot, as if rooted to the floor and was gazing mutedly in his direction. Bemused, he asked, "What?"

This time another pause followed, lasting seconds longer than its similarly silent predecessor. The blonde - Demyx, he reminded himself - struggled internally, face shifting into various expressions of uncertainty as Xaldin watched. At times, he seemed to be on the verge of saying something but he quickly cut himself off, doubting his choice of words. At last, the neophyte spoke, his words blurting out in a hurried rush, "Are you Xaldin?"

Not for the first time that day, Xaldin felt a prick of shock rise up in his chest; it appeared that the day was filled to the brim with undesired surprises.

As if sensing his astonishment, Demyx hurried to explain. "On my first day here, they told me that I was to be Number IX, but when I counted the others afterwards, there were only seven. So, I asked Xigbar who the remaining member was and he said it was Xaldin, I mean, you. And…yeah," he finished, letting his last sentence trail off as he fell silent once more, gaze still locked on him.

Xaldin sighed. If the yellow-eyed man was involved, there really was only one thing that could result in such a strange look being sent his way. "What did he say?"

As expected, the blonde flushed with embarrassment, earning another curious thought from Xaldin which he just as quickly dismissed. "He, um. He said–" Demyx stopped, took a deep breath and tried again. "He said that you're a big, antisocial guy who liked to be left alone and is prone to unpredictable violent lashes of temper and is more than likely to impale unknown intruders if he felt his personal space was being trespassed and–"

His suspicions confirmed, Xaldin lifted a gloved hand, effectively causing the neophyte to cut off whatever it was he had left to say, falling silent whilst looking, if possible, a little stricken. He opened a portal, his next destination already in mind, words already in his mouth. "I'm going to have a short talk with Xigbar. As for you," he told the other man, "I would advise that you disbelieve any other useless information Number II decides to share in the near or far future. Regarding what he has told you so far, I suggest you quickly forget every word of it, save for the ones confirmed by any other of the first six. Do you understand?"

Demyx nodded his answer and that was all Xaldin wanted to see. Without another word, he stepped into darkness, feeling his mind begin to understand the sudden change in the wind.

* * *

As it turned out, Xigbar was nowhere to be found. He checked everywhere for his friend; the higher rooms of the castle, the library and its rows of bookshelves - he had searched the outside grounds, the countless uninhabited shops and even the hostel-like building standing tall in the city square. In the end, he had no choice but to give up the search, left with tinges of dissatisfaction tainting his mood.

It reminded him a little of how forest animals could smell danger and make their escape within a blink of the eye. Likewise, Xigbar had disappeared, scurrying off to whatever form of hiding place he had thought of before Xaldin had even caught sight of him.

Having no other pressing matter to attend to at the moment and his 'talk' forcefully postponed, he was left with a very sad array of entertainment to choose from. For the next few days, he spent his time wandering the castle grounds and, when that eventually tired him out, he sought for solace in the dark streets of the city.

Soon enough, Xaldin felt his patience run thin, if not leave him completely. At one point, he seriously considered asking Zexion for another mission but the idea was abandoned in the end; he didn't know why but some small part of him felt hesitant to leave the castle grounds.

He guessed it had something to do with the Organization's latest addition. In the face of Xigbar's sudden absence, Xaldin had found more than a few chances to observe him. His disposition, to Xaldin, seemed to run almost parallel to the two before him. VII, VIII and IX shared the similarity of having wild elements strung to their bodies and all three of them appeared perfectly content to let them run free and untamed - drained energy, dancing flames and musically inclined water - a concept he was still attempting to wrap his mind around. It was strange, watching them bend to their element's will, allowing them to do as they pleased rather than command it to do their bidding, the way he had been taught to do ever since the first lessons of magic, back at the garden.

He could still hear the King's voice echoing amongst his thoughts. _Concentrate. Breathe and focus your mind on the task you want done. To fight alongside a mindless entity one must first be stronger than the one to be controlled. Once the ranks have been set, complete command of your chosen element is yours. _

Xaldin spent the rest of the week watching Lexaeus go through the basic training with Demyx, pausing long enough to ascertain the blonde's latest progress before moving on to find other things to occupy himself with. The development wasn't made in leaps and bounds. They were small and barely noticeable if he had not been watching and taking note. He knew Demyx's capabilities were slow in being shaped, but he also knew that such a powerful element was perfectly capable of massive damage.

Perhaps, he wondered one day after days since the unbidden routine of watching began, that was the reason he felt so wary of leaving. Another strip of change would take place soon - he could feel it - and he wanted to be sure he was there to witness it.

* * *

One night, before going to sleep, Xaldin opened his room windows to let the night air in. He stared for a few moments at the moonless sky, vaguely trying to remember how it had looked like when there was light up there. Finally, he abandoned the weak attempts, tucking them away for another night's thoughts.

Just as he was about to turn away and head for bed, he heard a faint addition to the night air. The sound was so soft that if Xaldin hadn't been paying attention to the silence, he wouldn't have noticed it all. He listened intently as he tried to place it, looking for a source. After straining his ears, seconds stretching into minutes, he willed himself to move away from the window and headed for his bed.

In the comfort of his white sheets and soft pillow, Xaldin stared up at the ceiling, speculating silently.

From outside, the soft, unnamed sound flowed in.

* * *

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity had passed-a week, he amended to himself, just a week-the wanted man made his appearance. Xaldin left the castle's towering balconies and headed quietly for the library, intending to read away the free time he had on his hands. It was then that he found Xigbar; to be more accurate, that was when he found a book worth reading and turned at a corner to almost collide with the solid, dangling legs of Number II, sitting whilst hovering in the air with a thick, black encyclopedia in his lap.

When Xaldin recovered enough from his surprise to scowl his displeasure, the sniper only smiled innocently.

"Xigbar," he started, meaning to say what he wanted to say seven days ago but the scarred man interrupted him with a raised hand.

"Did you know," he said, "that in a certain part of a certain world, military units were being strengthened with the usage of drugs that heightened a person's senses to an extent were sleep became impossible?"

Xaldin crossed his arms over his chest, impatient and possibly mimicking annoyance. "For your information, I'm not interested."

"But it gets pretty cool in the end," he insisted, glancing at him before returning to the print at hand. "Listen. Everything was going really well until about the 29th day of the first month of testing. Suddenly, death reports started streaming in, all lacking a cause of death. They spent months investigating the cases but no traces of fatal wounds or illnesses that could have induced the deaths were found."

Feeling that knocking Xigbar out of his position in the air would probably be childish, he restrained himself from doing so, just barely. Instead, all he did was leaned his back against the wooden rack behind him and reluctantly resigned himself to listening.

Oblivious to Xaldin's irritation - or noticing but choosing to ignore it anyway, Xigbar continued to share the article he had inevitably found. "The only clue they had to go by was that the voluntary test subjects experienced bouts of severe hallucinations of things they feared. In the end, one of the hundreds of scientifically qualified people there suggested that perhaps the deaths happened because the subjects hallucinated their own deaths. Since the mind was unable to acquire sufficient rest, the processes of analyzing dark thoughts through dreams were unable to take place. As a result, the mind carved a different way to release stress and forced the people to face their problems head on in the form of violent delusions."

"The hallucinations continued to gradually worsen until they envision death happening to them in the form of a gunshot, drowning, exploding grenades and other similar circumstance that might cause death. When this happens, even though it's only a fiction of their imagination, the mind _believes_ it to be real and reacts accordingly. Therefore, the deaths are a caused by the mind believing it to be dead." He looked up, meeting Xaldin's hard gaze. "Isn't that cool?"

"Fascinating," was his reply, coated in sarcasm. "Are you finished?"

Xigbar slipped the leather-bound book back onto the shelf and touched the ground lightly with his feet. "Not really,' he said and continued talking as he began to walk away. "There was another similar case somewhere, in the 1960s. Some guy was subjected to the death penalty or something. They let him choose how he wanted to die and he picked to have the blood drained out of him. But they didn't do that. You want to know what they really did?"

From behind, Xaldin who had been following at an even pace so that the sniper was several steps in front of him, monotonously said, "No."

He ignored the uninterested answer. "Instead of bleeding him out like they said they would, they blindfolded him and made a hole on the back of his hand for, you know, the blood to flow out from. Then, they did something with the water so the guy would _think_ it was blood and he was dying. Ten minutes later, he died." Xigbar turned abruptly around the corner, seemingly walking without destination. "And it was all just the brain. Imagine thinking you died and seriously dying when it's all just happening in your head."

"Xigbar, what is your point?" His patience had run out and frustration seeped into his words as he continued to trail behind the other man.

He turned around, facing Xaldin once more. Then, he grinned, showing white teeth before swiftly continuing on down the aisle. "Nothing, really. Just felt like telling you, that's all."

Xaldin sighed to himself as they came to the center of the library; recently, some space had been made to allow for a more comfortable read and a long table as well as a few chairs had been brought in. In front of him was Xemnas, seated in exactly the middle chair, detachedly reading the book in front of him. He looked up at their arrival and Xigbar greeted him before dropping onto the soft couch located next to the wall in one corner, next to a bookshelf.

Feeling cheated, Xaldin lowered himself into a chair opposite of Xemnas, inwardly cursing the sniper in his head. He saw Xemnas lift an eyebrow curiously, book abandoned as he looked in his direction in silent enquiry. Xaldin said nothing, not acknowledging the silent question.

Just as Xemnas opened his mouth, footsteps sounded and a minute later, Lexaeus joined them at the table, soaked wet. From his lazy lounge on the couch - legs propped up and taking all the space on the furniture as he pointedly claimed it - Xigbar made a mock-concerned sound in his throat. "Lexaeus, I hate to break it to you, but you're dripping all over the floor."

Said man, like any other sensible person, calmly ignored him. At getting no reaction, Xigbar emulated offense and shifted his position so that his back was now facing them. Number V addressed their dark-skinned leader and went straight to the point. "He's having trouble with his element," he bluntly said.

Leaning back, Lexaeus relaxed his limbs over the chair, spreading them out and causing even more water to fall to the floor. "As predicted, Number IX seems to be facing problems controlling his attacks. The amount of power dissolved into them are either insufficient or too much that the sheer force of it sends him reeling back."

"Oh," was all Xemnas said at first. Then, "Do you have any suggestions?"

"We _could_ continue training normally. Perhaps, like VII and VIII, he'll find the solution on his own." Lexaeus took off his boots, leaving the white socks on and opened a rift in the darkness before nonchalantly throwing them into the dark depths with cool indifference. After that, with a simple snap of his fingers a different mass of black appeared. As it swirled and shifted on the floor, he resumed talking. "However, it is entirely possible that such a method won't work. VIII now has perfect control over his element but he usually does not make an effort to restrain the flames - VII relishes in the wildness of his power, but before that, they were able to master their elements."

"And you don't think IX is capable of doing the same?" Xemnas asked as he watched V reach into the darkness, prodding around for a while before finally grabbing at something and pulling it out.

Lexaeus slipped his covered feet into his new, dry pair of boots. "Maybe, maybe not. At the moment, he seems very hesitant to act and take charge. It's been an entire week, Xemnas, and his control has barely improved. I don't know what else to do."

Throughout the conversation, Xaldin observed them silently as he ran his own thoughts around in his mind. He thought about the past few days and the set of days before those and wondered what it was that set them apart; he wondered when he started thinking of his second life as two different sections: then and now.

He listened to the sounds around him. From the other side of the table, he heard Xigbar's steady breathing. Apart from stirring slightly at the darkness' presence earlier, the other man had been completely still, silent. He heard Xemnas' fingers tapping against the table, water droplets falling off Lexaeus and onto the floor and voices talking, one tired and the other thoughtful. He heard the wind blowing in from the open window, breezing softly amongst the bookshelves, running into walls and books of different sizes - he heard snatches of a melody reach his ears, vibrating in the air from the outside, beating through his eardrums in faint, diminished snippets.

Xaldin listened, gathering the sound up in his mind and wondered. Then, before he could second-guess his next actions, he spoke. "Lexaeus," he said, getting the attention of both V and I, "let me take over."

A pause, considering the offer. "Are you sure?"

_No._ "Yes," he shrugged his shoulders, dismissing his first answer. "At the very least, it'll give me something to do."

**End of 1st chapter**

For any of the people out there who read this, all comments are welcomed. Thanking you kindly for your time.


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